Beginnings at Baskerville
by Pakmai
Summary: Sherlock doesn't do feelings. But when fear pierces his facade at Dartmoor, more feelings come forward as well. Could a talk with his blogger, friend and partner Dr. John Watson help resolve this feelings? One-shot. Sherlock/John, Johnlock. Set during Hounds of Baskerville.


**My brain is stuck on my other fics, and I watched Hounds of Baskerville the other day and so this came out. Another little one-shot. Also, my first attempt at (publishing) more mature content. Be kind, please. Also, if anyone has anything they'd like me to try my hand at, send me a message, I'll see what I can do!**

**Reviews/comments welcome!**

**Sherlock does not belong to me, he and John belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle ultimately, though I am inspired by Mark Gatiss' and Stephen Moffat's versions. I am just borrowing the characters for a while. Enjoy!**

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It all started when they arrived in Baskerville. The tourist trade was so big that John and Sherlock end up having to share a room. It's not the first time they've been on trips outside of London to solve a case, and it probably won't be the last. There's always been something odd when they travel together, an energy between them, almost tension but not quite. It's just that, at least for John, everything becomes more intense, it's like everything comes into a sharper focus. As far as he can tell, Sherlock can't feel it or it doesn't affect him at least. Still, it was a long ride up to Dartmoor and to find out that they have to share the one room is slightly frustrating, because it means the tension or whatever that is between them isn't going to have any time to go away.

They bring Henry Knight out to the moor and between that, talking with Sherlock in the pub afterwards, and then failing to chat up the pretty psychiatrist afterwards, John is not in the best of moods as he goes up to the bedroom, only to find Sherlock there, curled up in his pajamas. "No luck with the psychiatrist, then?" he mumbles from where he's clutching at the pillow, the tension in his body obvious.

"No. I might have gotten somewhere if it weren't for that Dr. Frankland fellow coming over and asking about the case. That had her off in a huff." John says tensely as he opens his case to pull out some pajamas, having long given up on any sort of concept of privacy when changing, between the army and Sherlock, so he quickly changes into his pajamas, back toward the detective. When he's finished, he notices that the detective didn't say anything or even change positions, so he steps over to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. He never could stay angry at the detective for long, and it's obvious that whatever happened has affected him deeply.

"Hey. Are you alright, Sherlock? You were really wound up earlier." John says quietly as he gently rubs Sherlock's arm from elbow to shoulder softly in a soothing gesture.

Without moving very far, Sherlock slips his hand over John's, no longer clutching a the pillow. "I'll be fine." he says quietly, squeezing the doctor's hand gently for a few moments. "How long, John?" He asks, then hesitates, and asks, "How long before you leave me? Before my personality drives you away, or before you find a girlfriend you like better than helping me on cases?" He asks in a soft voice, for the first time sounding truly vulnerable. Not angry or scared like he was earlier, but instead a bit depressed and just vulnerable, like a child afraid of being abandoned.

"What do you mean, Sherlock?" John asks, a little startled at the question. "You can be a bloody bastard sometimes, Sherlock, but.. God help me, you're my best friend." he says as he stares at the back of the man's head. "I'm never going to abandon you. Who's going to make sure you eat and take care of yourself? You'd get yourself killed without me around." He tries to make a joke, but this really does concern the doctor, this behavior, and he gently starts to tug on Sherlock's shoulder, pulling him onto his back though the detective keeps his face toward the wall.

"You're always looking for a girlfriend though, some day you'll find one and move out to live with her." Sherlock says quietly as he finally turns his face to look up at John, still feeling very lost, the drugs wreaking havoc with his system and his normally solid emotional control.

Working on impulse at the moment, John sighs a little. "I don't know, Sherlock. Doubt I'll ever find anyone at this point in my life." he says before he reaches up and lays his hand against the detective's cheek, thumb stroking his cheek softly. "Where is this all coming from, Sherlock? What's going on in that head of yours?" he asks in confusion.

Sherlock stares up into the stormy blue eyes of the doctor, sighing softly when the warm, calloused hand is pressed to his cool skin. "Today. In the pub. It made me realize how difficult it is for you to stay as my friend and flatmate." he says softly, before he props himself up on his elbows. "I hate it when you have dates. I hate that those women, those idiots, divert your attention from me." He says before he frowns a little. "You seek companionship from them but only to satisfy your physical needs, since I satisfy your other needs quite well." he says as he considers for a few moments. "Something that I could be capable of doing if you would look past your preconceptions about your sexuality." He says in a firm tone as he watches the doctor above him.

Rather shocked at the detective's little speech, John pulls his hand back and just stares at the detective. "What?" He asks after sputtering for a few moments. "So you've been mean to all of my dates because what.. you're jealous?" he asks in surprise as he stares at the younger man. "Are you.. coming onto me, Sherlock?" he asks, a little surprised. "I'm not gay."

"Yes, so you keep insisting." Sherlock says in annoyance. "I wasn't suggesting you were gay, John. You obviously enjoy yourself with women and show all the classic signs of attraction toward them." He says as he stares up at the doctor, watching him closely. "However, you also show those signs whenever we are close. Whenever we take a trip outside of London. I know you feel what's between us. Somehow in Baker Street you don't notice the attraction, it becomes more pronounced when we leave the safety of the city." He says as he watches the former soldier next to him. "You find me attractive, John. You merely don't allow yourself to see it. I could prove it to you if you like, but it won't work unless you're open to it." He points out as he continues to watch the doctor. "You must have been curious at one time, I'd wager you even experimented when you were in Uni. But it scared you that you might just like both sexes, since that was not socially acceptable at the time."

Frowning a little, John watches Sherlock for a few moments, letting those comments settle and digest. Some of it is true, he was curious in college, and drunkenly experimented but he doesn't remember much of it, and soon banished those thoughts, especially when he decided to go into the Army. And objectively he can see that Sherlock is a very attractive man. Of course, the idea of Sherlock kissing anyone or knowing how to do any of that stuff is a little odd, but yeah, he's curious. John has never been one to keep his curiosity at bay. "Alright, then." he finally decides as he looks at Sherlock. "One kiss, because you're right, I am bloody curious." he finally says as he looks into the blue-green eyes of the detective.

Sitting up and perhaps looking a bit like a kid at Christmas, Sherlock motions toward the bed. "Lay down, relax. It may make it easier for you." He says, having been feeling this tension building between them for months. Once John complies and seems to be comfortable, Sherlock leans over him, putting hands on either side of the blonde to help balance himself before he leans in slowly, eyes remaining on John's. Hesitating for a moment, Sherlock tentatively brushes his lips against John's, still staring into his eyes before he leans forward a little more, placing a proper kiss on the older man's lips, gentle and caressing, eyes finally sliding closed as he continues the kiss, letting it linger.

John watches Sherlock closely, hands resting on his arms as he relaxes back against the pillow. Feeling a bit odd about this, but since he did make a promise, he tentatively returns the kiss, letting his eyes slide closed. It is a little strange, the dry, firm lips against his that are so unlike the ones he's used to kissing, but at the same time, it feels very right, as well. He's glad the kiss lingers because it gives him time to adjust to it, to really get a feel for it. And find out that he oddly likes it, so he slowly slides one hand up Sherlock's arm and curls it around his neck as he becomes a more active participant in the kiss, hand tightening a little to pull the younger man closer and deepening the kiss a little. Before things carry on too far though, he slides his fingers into Sherlock's hair and uses that to pull his head back. "Bloody hell, Sherlock." he whispers breathlessly after.

"What do you think?" Sherlock asks softly, very narrowly preventing himself from initiating another kiss. Though the hand in his hair keeps him from pulling away even if he wanted to. He promised one kiss and he's not going to push for anything else.

Sighing a little at the somewhat smug expression on Sherlock's face, John licks his lips slowly. "Do you ever get tired of being wrong?" He asks, but doesn't give the detective time to answer, pulling him down for another kiss, this one a little deeper and more passionate, his free hand sliding under Sherlock's arm to slide around his body. A small groan is ripped from John's throat as the kiss sends sparks of arousal through him straight to his groin.

A moan comes from the detective as well, and he seems more than pleased when they're flipped over and he gets pinned back to the bed, sliding his arms and one leg around the smaller army doctor, becoming a little desperate. When he arches against John, he is delighted to find that the former soldier is as hard as Sherlock is. One hand slides down the older man's back to grab his butt, bringing him down to grind against him.

Pinning Sherlock in place with his body, John groans a little when their erections brush, he eagerly begins grinding down against the younger man, breathing heavily as he breaks the kiss, pressing small kisses and bites along Sherlock's jaw. And while he may be inexperienced when it comes to being with a man, he's got very good instincts and always pays attention to his partner. It's easy for him to tell that the friction of their clothed erections rubbing against each other is not nearly enough, so he reaches down, sliding down and kicking off his pajama pants before he slides a hand down, joining Sherlock's in getting his pajama pants off as well.

"John.." Sherlock groans, tilting his head back to expose his neck to the doctor's ministrations, sliding one hand into the short gray-blonde hair before the other slides down to get them out of their pants, frantic to feel John against him.

When they're finally free and bare skin brushes bare skin, John gasps at the sensations which are different but amazing, grinding them together again as he nips at Sherlock's neck. "Bloody hell.." He mutters, lifting his head and kissing Sherlock passionately. He slides his hand down to join Sherlock's in wrapping around them both, thrusting into the frantic, desperate movements, staring down at Sherlock before he gasps, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. "Sherlock.." he groans, feeling the younger man stiffen beneath him, continuing his stroking with Sherlock until they both slow and stop, and he somewhat collapses atop the detective.

Breathless and slightly sticky from sweat and semen, Sherlock keeps his arms around John and holds him, not having predicted that things would go quite this far so quickly but he's also not going to complain. "John?" He asks tentatively when he gets his thoughts back into some sort of order.

"Mmm." John grunts, slowly lifting himself off of Sherlock, looking down into his eyes, giving his lips a soft, slow kiss. "We obviously need to talk.." he says with a weak smile, before he licks his lips. "But first.. we both need a shower.." he says as he looks down at them, pushing back and sitting up, slowly getting up and going into the shower to start it, then he comes back to offer the other man a hand up. Once the detective is on his feet, John strips off his own t-shirt and helps Sherlock out of his - the only pieces of clothing that survived the encounter - before admiring Sherlock's smooth, pale skin and his long, lean body. Licking his lips a little again, John decides to save any further thoughts until later, leading the taller man into the shower. He decides that sharing a shower would be best for them.

"Is this what you want, Sherlock? A real relationship? You know what that entails, right? This can't be some experiment on your part, or something you're only going to want for a few -" John starts to speak quickly and with a worried tone, but he gets cut off by Sherlock's lips on his, effectively silenced with a kiss.

Sherlock finally breaks the kiss, taking in the older man's appearance before he says, "Yes." Simply but firmly as he looks down into those mesmerizing blue eyes. "I understand, John. Yes. It is what I want. I.. believe I have wanted it for months now, though I didn't understand it until tonight." he says quietly as he gets them both cleaned up.

Laughing softly and shaking his head, John tilts it back slowly to wet his hair down, before he changes positions with the taller man, focusing on everything that's happened in the past few hours. "Right, then." he says with and of his head, chuckling lightly again. "You and me. Who would have thought the person I end up would be the World's only Consulting Detective?"

For a few moments Sherlock just stares at John as if he said something absolutely idiotic and ridiculous, cleaning himself off under the hot spray of the water. Finally, he figures out something to say that won't make the doctor angry at him.

"The fans of your blog, John."


End file.
